A State of Mind
by Reaya
Summary: It's bad enough that she's impersonating her twin brother and his job, but protecting a dying six year old was definitely not what Alanna signed up for. Who else can fit in time for a psychotic brother and three relationships from four different sides?
1. Father's Daughter

A new story with Hunter and everything else unfinished, I know. So sue me. I'll try to keep this one from wandering off and beating around the bush. It was fun writing it, so I hope you have fun reading it and won't kill me for writing this. I wanted to try something new...

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tamora Pierce. Plot's half mine. I think.

This idea popped out at random yesterday; I know it'll be extremely weird to read. It's _very_ different, I should warn you, especially Alanna's "profession". Oh, and the world I'm writing would be modern Tortall. It's an empire now the way I'm planning it in my head, by the way.

** ~ ◊**** ~**

"So...tell me again how the world's supposed to revolve when it's flat?" I continued to sip on my orange soda, waiting for a reply. 

"I'm telling you—that's what Malven thought! He was actually giving Myles a reason to launch into one of those weird Universal-Buddha lectures." My brother rolled his eyes and tipped his chair back so that it was supported only by the back two legs. "And this is _Malven_ we're talking about. He doesn't think. And especially doesn't argue points of the universe with our Psychology teacher. And what does religion have to do with Psychology, anyway?" 

Empty air entering my mouth informed me that my drink was now empty. Swishing it around some more, I heard the clicking of ice against the side of the cheap McDonald's cup. "Plenty," I replied matter-of-factly. "Religion is thought. Thought plays a big part in Psychology, Thom." I set the cup down. 

He snorted and leaned back further. I sighed. Boys. I would never understand them. Someone needed to write a book on their thoughts...maybe a certain Psychology teacher whom my brother happened to dislike. It was strange talking to him after being apart for a whole year, but it was worth it. Thom is a literal genius, you see. He's been done with college for around six years. I just got out last year. I stood up to throw the empty container in the nearby garbage dispenser. "You're going to fall if you keep on doing that," I informed him, giving him a small pat on the back as I passed him. 

"As if." Just then, a group of rowdy elementary school boys ran past. The momentum was enough to unbalance the chair, throwing my dear twin onto the floor. Faces turned towards them from all over the fast food joint. 

Hah! Didn't I tell him? It was one of the few circumstances where I was right and he was wrong. I fought to hide a smirk and giggle, but it was too much to resist. "I told you so." 

He shot me a glare from his seat on the floor. "Shut up." 

**A State of Mind   
**Chapter One : Father's Daughter  
by Reaya 

I shrugged, brushing back a few strands of coppery hair from my face and frowned. It was getting quite long, nearing my waist, actually. I'd have to cut it soon. "Are you going to get up? Or do you like it down there?" 

"The view's nice," he commented, gaze having fallen on a nearby stereotypical girl who was seated in his line of vision. You don't want to know what he was looking at—but then again, you probably guessed already. 

I covered my forehead with a hand, embarrassed for him. "You're a perv, Thom, you know that?" 

"Hey, you would be too if you'd attended an all boys school." 

I let another long sigh escape. "Not quite. I'm a girl, remember? I couldn't go to an all boys school even if I wanted to." I don't know why Thom played the stupid pervert so much. After all, he was brilliant, wasn't he? Home schooled by Maude since preschool, he had quickly out-learned our old Governess. He was shipped off to a prestigious school at the young age of nine, graduating high school at twelve. He had been out of college when I was still in my Sophomore year. It was easy for him to get a job as CEO of some rich company. But then he dropped that to pursue a Major in psychiatry. Don't ask me why. Insanity runs in our family. 

After all, I had been stuck with babysitting our near-crazy archeologist father and being dragged around to out of the way places since I finished college. It was not fun, trust me. Our parents divorced when we were twelve, you see, and seeing as we were twins, and our parents were oh so mature, it was decided who would go with who with a coin toss. I knew I shouldn't have chosen tails... 

Either way, I don't think we'd ever been close to our parents. Thom and I only had each other for support since day one. And maybe Coram and Maude, but who confides in one's old nanny (be he male or not) and governess nowadays? Or maybe they do: I wouldn't know. I've never been one to socialize all that much, with dad being dad. All I'm sure of is that Thom and I never did much after Maude told Coram who stole the tarts from cook. So Thom and I were close. My parents and I were not. But someone had to make sure dad didn't kill himself on one of his digs, and I happened to have lost that particular toss. I'm sure that mom used a two-headed coin; figures she wanted the genius instead of the smart aleck. Not that Thom wasn't the latter, too, though. 

After a while of contemplating, I got up and dragged him back onto his chair. "So...Thom. Tell me why you're taking classes in my field when you hate it, again?" I guess we were back where we started. 

He scrutinized me for a moment. "Your field?" 

"Yes, the whole psychiatry thing, you know. Me as in psychiatrist?" Guess we weren't as close as I thought. Or maybe Thom was getting even more scatterbrained than before. Geniuses tend to drift in that direction though, I find. At least in all the movies, anyway. "I don't think psychiatry fits all that much with...engineering, or whatever you're taking." 

He blanched. "You're a Psychiatrist? I thought you'd always end up some kind of athlete, or something, the way you were going in school." He punched his hand. "So that's why I didn't find your name in the Sports section!" 

"Great, Thom, real corny." But I was shocked—Thom really didn't know what I had been taking in college after all these years? He had been at my graduation last year for God's sake! "But seriously, you didn't know?" 

"I had no idea. Never bothered to keep tabs on you after I became part of that company, you know. Too busy and all." 

I nodded slowly, hiding my hurt. "I guess..." 

"Mithros, Alanna, I never wanted to be apart of it. I hated psychiatry, you know that. And I threw a fit when Old Man Grouch—grandfather—managed to slip that into my courses. I was jealous that you were free to do what you liked. " He shook his head resignedly. "I guess they all thought you'd be like mom and—" He broke off. Remember when I said insanity ran in my family? Well, I was being quite literal. Mom, our real one, had to go into a mental home after our birth. I hear she was quite a renowned psychiatrist before that. It was also the reason our father went somewhat over the edge, too, after her death, and began burying himself in his work, necessarily or not. He did manage to remarry after that, for our good more over anything else. Mom—the step one—never really got along with him. She loved us the best she could, but it wasn't much. 

"It's okay, Thom. We don't have to talk about her now." We lapsed into an awkward silence for some time. "Wait...Mithros? Why are you bringing one of the old Gods into this?" 

He looked flustered for a moment, but then laughed. "Always one to note detail, aren't you, even when it isn't necessary? After all, I hear you say 'Goddess' quite a few times yourself." That wasn't really true. I think. At least the former hadn't been, I couldn't deny the latter much. I had been the more outgoing, more athletic one who didn't get the best grades or notice the small things. That had been him. I think. 

A beeping sound startled both of us, as we had gone quiet again. "Mine," Thom answered quickly and checked his pager. "Another company wanting me for CEO...I'm supposed to attend some board meeting even though I'm not really apart of it. I'm sorry to break this short, but I'm going to have to get out of here before grandpa's men find me—" 

I knew what company he was talking about. "Of course I understand. Go on." He gave me an apologetic smile and hurried out the doors. I stared wistfully at his retreating back before sighing and gathering my jacket to leave, too. There were things I that could never return to normal. I didn't really know Thom anymore. He had changed so much over the years. Sure, he attended my graduation, but that was only for the first five minutes. Other than that, I hadn't seen him for years. 

He didn't know how badly I wanted the job he so carelessly refused. It wasn't that I didn't know him—it was the other way around. He didn't know me. He didn't know how much I wanted to please grandpa. 

Before I lose all track of sense, I'd better explain. That company he was CEO at was our Grandfather's. I had been in awe of our stoic relative from the only time we'd seen him at the age of five. Even then he brushed me aside. I even got that psychiatry degree to get him to notice me. As the father of our deceased parent, he loved his only grandchildren dearly. At least the male one, anyway. Only a male heir could carry on the company, he proclaimed, but Thom flat-out refused. Grandpa didn't like me, you see, seeing as I was a Girl, so I was left unnoticed. No, there was no possibility of me going there. None at all. 

So why did I still try so hard? To prove myself? Why? _Because in this society, males still dominated even with all the advancements._

- 

The apartment was dark when I arrived later that night. Very dark. This wasn't good. I sighed, hoping dad wasn't trying one of his strange experiments in my room, because every time that happened, he would mess up something then decide to go to bed early he wouldn't have to watch me get mad. My temper wasn't all that great. 

But tonight seemed different. Flicking on the lights in the miniscule kitchen, I discarded the grocery bags on the counter and headed for my room, hoping whatever disaster had been caused there could be easily fixed. As it turned out, I shouldn't have. As soon as my lights were turned on, I winced. 

The once neat room was now a mess. I hadn't had a chance to unpack all of this week since we arrived back from Africa , but it didn't seem as if I had to anymore. My clothes and possessions were strewn all over the room. What caught my eye was an empty iron fame; the glass that had once covered a picture had been littered, broken on the ground. I paled. The frame had held a picture of my mother. I hoped what I thought happened hadn't really happened. 

I dropped the shards I had picked up and ran towards dad's room. "Dad?" I called out, voice wavering. There was no response, not even the usual muffled moving of an elderly man trying to get out of trouble my feigning sleep and squirming deeper into his blankets. I turned on yet another light. A large lump made the blankets bulge out in a humanoid form. I let out my breath in relief. A bit too soon as it turned out. When I approached, I noticed that it was only a bunch of pillows stuffed under the blanket in a convincing form. I bit my lower lip; this was not good. 

My father being my father and slightly insane, and me having graduated out of psychiatry, I had learned that the way my father coped with the reality of my mothers death was that he didn't. Instead, he covered all thoughts of her with his obsession of digging up old artifacts. Buried in his studies, he managed to push everything related out of his mind, even us. Unfortunately, any physical proof of her could and did trigger the other part of him that was really insane. The few times he came out of it was disaster, except for once. That once he remembered us and found himself his second wife. Unfortunately, he also tried to kill himself on the wedding night after seeing a picture of mom while digging through the attic. That most likely was the first step of many leading to the divorce. 

But after that, all pictures of her were destroyed or confiscated. With the exception of the one I had, of course. 

The full realization of it all hit me and I fled the room. I scoured the apartment for him, but he wasn't there. I was at a loss. The most obvious thing for him to do was to return to the last place he had seen his first wife, but that was an asylum in near what was once Scanra, but now part of the empire that was Tortall. But that wasn't possible. 

I racked my brain for a place that I hadn't searched. My intuition told me he was near. Then it dawned upon me—the balcony. The asylum had told us that she had died by jumping off a balcony; would dad have done the same? Dropping all thought, I dashed to check the balcony in my room. Not there. I peered over the iron bars fearfully, afraid that he might have jumped already. 

I was chewing my lip rather forcefully. A trickle of blood oozed out into my mouth, and I could taste the strange flavor seeping out. I swallowed hard and went back in, headed for the back balcony of the apartment. The darker one which I had always avoided ever since I bought this place for us to stay in a year back. My breathing grew heavy as I neared; it was as if I knew what to expect there. Fear constricted my chest when I saw the opened door. 

Anticipation made me freeze. There was nothing there, absolutely nothing. Gingerly, I stepped onto the cold concrete of the balcony floor. My eyes scanned the glowing lights of city for clues. I found none. Again I looked over the wrought iron fence, hopping no one had jumped off of there recently. But my father couldn't have. He wasn't strong enough to haul himself over it to complete the deed. 

I turner around, sweeping the walls of the house. There against the wall, hanging from a rope wound around a flag poll was my father. 

- 

I don't know what my first memory was. Once, during a particularly laborious psychology class, we were told to search our minds and pen down the first real picture we had of life; our first memory. I was one of the few who couldn't, and I told our teacher so. To my surprise, he had beamed at me and told me that I had answered correctly. Confused, I asked for an explanation. 

He didn't reply. Instead, he told us about the complexity of the human mind and what it could make one do when triggered by certain things or events, seen or unseen. I left that class still confused, wondering what was the point in asking us to find our first memory and then ignoring that by giving us a speech about Psychological thought. 

I still don't fully grasp it, such is the complexity of Psychology and I don't think I ever will. But I understand it a bit more now. Each thing that had happened to me led to who and what I am today. As I child, I only had my twin for comfort. But Thom was a boy, and even he didn't understand everything I went through. We had Maude and Coram to take care of us, and while they loved us, they couldn't possibly bring us up normally. Memories of dad were limited, but hovering always on the edge of everything I did. 

Thom adored Maude for what she had to teach in academic knowledge. I loved Coram for what he taught me athletically and what to do in my self defense. But not so much as I loved my father for teaching me—or rather, not teaching—everything else. It made me grow up and learn by myself. But at the same time, I hated him for it. I hated him with a deep, constricting fury. Just as he blamed us for mom going over the edge and then her suicide, I blamed him for the same thing. I never knew what Thom thought, he was too much into his studies to care, just as father was doing. 

But at the age of nine, when Thom's genius was discovered by father, chaos had erupted in the house. I think he reminded dad of mom. Thom hated him for stopping his advanced studies. It was only with the interception of our new 'mom' that he was allowed to continue at the pace he was. So off he went to that school of his, and I was left all alone. We grew apart after that, slowly but surely. 

Our grandfather's interest didn't help things, either. He visited us once, on our fifth birthday, but all his attention had been on Thom. He didn't care that his daughter had died at all--after all, she had been female and insane. He was just happy that he at last had an heir to continue his company after him. Idolizing heroes as I was back then, I don't know why I chose grandpa of all people. I suppose it had something to do with the young boy he had brought with him, who idolized him in the same way. I wanted to be just like that blue-eyed stranger. He was eight to my five, you see, and was one of the few older children who even took notice of me. Over the length of the visit, I guess I found myself copying him and soon I was following my grandfather's every word and action with revered awe as well. 

How stupid of me. Later I learned who he really was, and I gave up all hope of my puppy crush. Thom had made fun of me anyway, so it wasn't so hard. But my idolization for the old man continued. He was rich, successful, and respected even in old age. I've never grown out of it, even though I've tried my hardest to. I couldn't understand why Thom brushed him off so easily. Thom. There was someone I would really never understand, regardless of how I convinced myself otherwise. Today at McDonald's had just proven my point. 

And so it was McDonald's that was first on my mind when returned to the land of the conscious. I wrinkled my nose, wondering why my brother had chosen that place for our visit. I opened my eyes and blinked as bright light shone into them. I pushed myself into a sitting position, wondering why in the world I was lying in a bed at the hospital. 

"You're awake," a smiling nurse greeted me._ What? Oh yes_, I remembered. _I fainted after seeing what remained of my father's suicide attempt._ No offense to her, but the smile sort of made me want to puke. Who could be so happy in a place that stank of sterilized everything to wash away the smell of death? 

"What happened?" I asked dumbly. I don't think dad's death had fully registered in my mind yet. "What am I doing here?" 

The smile didn't waver. "Your neighbor found the door left open to your father's apartment and you unconscious near the balcony. Outside..." She trailed off unsure if she should continue; her over bright smile fell a notch. 

I stared at her as irrelevant thoughts ran through my mind. Like a former teacher had taught me, I waited for it to catch up to speed after a shock. It didn't take long. "H-He killed himself, didn't he?" 

She nodded slowly. "Our doctors have confirmed that it was suicide, but the officers still want to...um, interrogate you." 

I nodded. The procedures were standard after a suicidal death, but _my father killed himself._ "Excuse me, can you direct me to the restrooms?" I lifted a hand to my mouth as a wave of nausea overcame me. 

"You really shouldn't be moving after that shock." Why was this nurse so dense? "You really should call any relatives that are—" 

"I have a cell," I snapped irritably, trying to keep what little I had eaten earlier in. 

She glanced at me nervously, finally realizing. "Oh. Well, um, if you really need to they're down the hall. Take a right at the waiting room there, then a left, and—" I didn't bother to stay and listen to the complete instruction. I wanted out. _Now_. 

On my way I had to ask for instructions from two other nurses and stop a rushing surgeon, but I made it there in time. Coughing, I ran the tap over my hand and splashed my face. I still couldn't believe it. I imagined what Thom might say. Knowing him, it would most likely be along the lines of 'so the old man finally kicked the bucket?' 

I sighed. I was most likely still numb from the original shock, but I would be feeling it all soon. Best to inform everyone before I went slightly insane myself. I dialed the first number that came to mind and exited the room, waiting for an answer. It didn't take long. 

"Hello?" The voice was completely unfamiliar. I wondered who I called. 

"Uh, Hi," I said, sounding extremely lame. 

"Who's it?" 

Whoever it had had a nice voice, I had to admit, even if they're grammar wasn't the best. "Alanna," I replied stupidly. 

"Ah," the voice replied. His tone was the one of a babysitter's took on when humoring a young child. "Alanna who?" 

"Uh, Trebond." There was a lull on the other end. "Uh, hello?" I must have sounded very intelligent. 

"Are you one of Mr. Greensward's grandchildren?" I flinched. So that's who I called. Of all the people I could have dialed I had to remember grandpa's number best. How much stupidity did I have left in me? 

"Yes," I squeaked. "Can I talk to him?" 

"Yes, of course," he responded. "Hold on a sec." What kind of secretary of grandpa's used that kind of lingo? Every time I tried calling they had all been females with voices like nails on a chalkboard using the most formal language ever to exist. I checked my watch. There was no way he would be back in the next fifteen minutes. It was always that way whenever I called. He never replied. 

I heard the sound of the other phone being picked up. I was surprised. He had returned in under two minutes. "Hey, you still there?" 

I nodded, but then remembered he couldn't see. "Uh, yeah." 

"Well, Mr. Greensward can't answer right now, so do you mind if I just gave you his answer?" 

"Yes. I mean, no." 

He chuckled softly. "He wants to know you're answer." 

"My answer?" 

"Your answer," he reconfirmed. "So are you accepting the job or what?" 

Job? I frowned, confused. "Sure, I guess." 

"Great. He's been waiting for that all week. Hey, did you call for anything other than that?" 

"Uh, yeah." I seemed to be saying 'uh' an awful lot today. Plus, I think I sounded like a sick cow just then. "Could you tell him that his son-in-law just died? Thanks—" I broke of quickly and ended the call, slumping back against the wall. Then I froze. He must have told grandpa that one of his grandchildren called, and grandpa must have assumed I was Thom. If that was so, I'd just accepted the position for him. Thom was not going to be happy. 

An hour later I had finished all the mandatory calls. Mom, Coram and Maude were on their way, but Thom had only snorted and commented as expected ("So he finally kicked the bucket, huh? About time, too—No way I'm attending the funeral. Nine years stuck with him was enough—Whatever, Alanna. No, I'm not going to take that job either. I'm transferring to the Carthaki branch this week—"). 

Was I in trouble or what? A small pounding settled in my head and I knew everything was finally really catching up to me. But I didn't want to think about death and suicide just yet. I could become depressed later. Plus, the constant hum of the machinery didn't help as it scratched my already raw nerves. 

I gave a small groan and pushed myself to a sitting position. I stayed there for a few seconds before rushing off to the bathroom again. I stared at the mirror. I looked even more like hell than earlier. Goddess, when was Maude supposed to come again? I tried to smooth down my wild locks with some water, but it didn't work so well. After fifteen minutes of trying, I gave up and slinked dejectedly back to the waiting room. 

A elderly woman in her late forties welcomed me. "Maude!" 

"Hello, Alanna. How is he?" Not for the first time, I leaned on her and cried long and hard. I never like dad much, but he had always been there, sane or insane, good or bad. 

- 

First the police took me aside to ask me some questions, by the interrogation didn't last long. The hospitals had been monitoring dad for some while now, noticing as his level of sanity as it slowly trickled away. That and the evidence they had gotten from the apartment and his corpse, was more than enough to prove suicide. 

The funeral the next day was kept short and small. I saw tears in my stepmother's eye and finally understood that she had really loved him, even if he had gone a bit too far to love her back after that one time. My eyes stayed dry, most likely because I saw her tears. After the reception, what little people there had been left quietly. I didn't talk. Finally, Coram and mom left, he to drive her, I think. Only Maude remained. 

She held me close, comforting me. "You remind me of your mother, Alanna—your real one. She was strong, just like you. She listened day and night, trying to help other people with their problems, even at the sacrifice of her own happy life." 

"No," I replied quietly. "I don't want to be like mom. She ditched her life for others, and that's what drove her off the edge." I stifled a small sob wanting to make it's way out. 

"Of course, Alanna," my former governess soothed. "I'll stay right here until you feel better." 

I nodded. It was something she always did. "I'm more like father," I breathed. "Thom's the one like mother." 

"Of course," she continued in that soothing tone of hers. But after I had stumbled across my realization, I didn't feel so down anymore. But I felt just as guilty. 

"Maude?" 

"Yes, dear?" 

"I'd like to confess something..." My voice wavered and I ducked my head to stare at the ground. 

I didn't see her reaction, but I heard a small intake of breath. "Tell me, Alanna." Her voice seemed strained now, for some reason. 

"Earlier, when I called grandpa, I accidentally accepted Thom's job offer," I blurted quickly. I think I heard Maude sight in relief. I stared at her "What did you think I did?" 

She smiled and shook her head. "Depressed young men and women often do things regretful, but I'm glad you're not one of them." I frowned. What did she mean—oh. Did she really think I'd stoop so low as to kill my own father, then pass it for suicide? I sighed, but she continued, a grin on her face. "And don't over worry yourself about your grandfather, I'll fix everything up." 

Standing up, she motioned for me to do the same. "Come stay at my place for a while until everything's settled. Your father doesn't have much left after the bills to the hospital and everything else are paid. Your wealth all came from your mother's side, you know..." I did. And grandpa still had most of it. "But we're going to make the best of it. I was going to help you find a job, but I see you've stumbled across one yourself." 

I looked at her expectantly. "I have?" 

"Yes, you just confessed to me." She looked a bit resigned, now. "I've known your grandfather for a long time, Alanna. He's a good man, regardless of what Thom may think. I know you look up to him, don't try to hide it. You care for people. You like to help them, no matter how you try to hide it. You were made to create things, not tear them down. Leave that to the other people. 

And no matter how much your grandfather hides it, he's getting on in his years. So much that he is confined in one place so that his arthritis will not bother him as much. He was so...joyful when he found out Thom had been born. There was never an heir for the Company. But Thom rejected his offers, and he went back to his old self. He's a grouch, I know that. But I did call him after you called me, and he sounded so much more alive than I'd heard him in years! 

What I'm telling you is this. While you're grandfather's life lasts, go in Thom's place." 

My mouth dropped open, staring at who I had once known as a proper, tradition-bound governess. "W-What? But I can't go; he wouldn't accept me anyway, I'm not a boy." _I'm not Thom._

Maude waved that aside. "That's why I'm going to try my hardest to make you play the part. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You always played the part of the tomboy when you were younger, so this shouldn't be so hard. After all, you and Thom tried switching places more than once, didn't you? Well, now I'm giving you full permission to do it." 

I stared at her in shock for at least five minutes. "Would you?" I finally managed to squeeze out. "Could I? Without being caught?" I didn't want to think of anyone's reaction—most of all my grandpa's and Thom's—when they found out..._if_ they found out. I was beginning to like this idea more and more. I smiled faintly; it was my first smile since yesterday. 

I ran my fingers through my hair. "This would have to be cut, wouldn't it?"

** ~ ◊ ~**

I had more fun writing that than anything else in a long time. Hope you like it and forgive me for not updating my other fics. Alanna majoring in psychiatry? Don't look at me...

_ Next chapter coming in about two weeks (May 1st or 2nd), sooner with a bit of time and some luck. Chapter Two called: Think Like a Woman, Act Like a Man..._


	2. Think Like a Woman, Act Like a Man

I woke up feeling strangely lightheaded. It wasn't that I had a headache or anything, but my whole head just felt, well, light. I reached up to drag my fingers through it. _Perfectly normal_, I thought at first, but then my fingers met air. I let my hand hang there like that for a moment before dragging myself to a mirror.

Thom stared back at me. I frowned, then looked behind me, knowing I was being stupid. After a week of freeloading, Maude had cut my hair last night, as promised, to resemble that of Thom's. But she hadn't allowed me to look at myself. The same copper-colored hair framed my face, only there wasn't as much of it as before. It wasn't a close cut, on contrary, the back brushed a bit past my shoulder, but I felt oddly bald.

I turned around, trying to see the back of my head. _Weird_. I really looked like a boy, sort of. That didn't make sense. But I looked like my twin, which I hadn't for ages. Or as much as I could while still maintaining the distinctly female parts I now owned.

"Alanna! Breakfast is ready!" Maude yelled from her kitchenette.

"Coming!" I grabbed a comb and ran it quickly through my hair, all the way down to waist level. I stopped. It was hard to break old habits, I guess. After some more combing of my invisible hair, I left the room.

Plopping down on a counter stool, I looked at the pancakes with wonder. I had always had to cook for for dad and me when we were together, but the Gods know I was a horrible cook. I'm sure he didn't mind; it was just that I minded. And now he was gone... But Maude was a whole different story. Raised in a proper family in the suburbs, she was fantastic at doing all things female. Cooking, cleaning, and—to my surprise—even shopping.

"Hmm," I licked my lips and reached for a plate.

To my disappointment, Maude slapped my hand away with her spatula, just like she had done whenever I had attempted to steal food when I was younger. "Don't eat anything until I tell you," she informed me.

I pulled my smarting hand away. "That hurt; you didn't have to hit so hard."

"You never learn even if I do, anyway. Now, get into some decent clothes." She surveyed my faded teddy-bear tee and ripped shorts with a mistrustful glare.

"But Maude," I whined, pitching my voice into an annoyingly high tone, "It's what I sleep in."

"Then we'll just have to go shopping today. Shoo!" She waved her spatula at me and I scrambled off to do as I was told. "I swear, you're like a boy enough," I heard her mutter as I took my leave.

**A State of Mind  
**Chapter Two : Think Like a Woman, Act Like a Man  
by Reaya

I returned wearing more presentable clothes, or at least I thought so. But Maude shoved me back into the room and stuffed some of Thom's old clothes in my arms. "If you're going to play the part of Thom at the company, I suggest you start practicing now," she told me relentlessly.

I rolled my eyes at the door she'd just closed. "You're the one who said I already acted like a boy," I muttered under my breath, but did as I was told. The bagging jeans and white shirt were a big large, but did well to hide my figure. Studying myself in the mirror, I mussed my hair a bit to get it to look more like my twin's on the few occasions I saw him.

Then I returned to the kitchen again...only to be kicked out once more. "Go do something about that chest of yours! I don't care if it looks okay to you; Thom's chest does not puff out like that!"

I shot her a scathing glare as soon as her back was turned. "Well _ sorry_ for being a _girl_."

"What did you say, _girl_?"

"Nothin'," I muttered and returned to my room.

After a couple more attempts, I was finally deemed 'satisfactory' by my old governess. By then I felt as if I could eat a whole horse. Not that I'd want to try eating one, you know. I licked my lips and piled seven pancakes on my plate, gorging them down as fast as I could chew. Maude looked at me with her nose wrinkled. "Do you have to eat like that?"

"Hey, you told me that I had to look and act the part of a convincing guy—this is how they eat," I told her through a mouthful of breakfast. But with what was in my mouth at the time, it probably wasn't coherent enough for anyone to understand. She just gave me another look of disgust and turned away. I made a face at her.

But it seemed that she got her 'revenge' on me later. Do you know how embarrassing it is for a twenty-three year old guy to go shopping with a old lady like Maude? Let me tell you something: it pretty much rivals finding your father hanging dead from a flag pole. But seriously, guys over twenty should not go shopping with women twice their age. For one thing, people shoot you a lot of strange looks when you have red hair and violet eyes in the first place; you get double that amount when a more than middle-aged lady drags you around into every single store and begins pulling have the clothes off the shelves and making you try them out in front her her. And not to mention the chest bindings, which were killing me by the third store. I had so much on my mind that I didn't even remember I was trying to be Thom until a girl came up to be and asked for my number. She left indignantly with saliva-covered soft drink in her hair.

After three malls and a few bags of new clothes piled in the back, Maude finally decided that we could go home. And as my luck would have it, she bumped into an 'old friend' just as we were about to leave the last mall. The two oldies went to find a bench and catch up with each other's lives. It didn't look like we were going for a while.

Bored, I entered the nearest store, which of course happened to be yet another clothing one. Specifically, though, for women. Hey, why not? Looking to make sure no one was in sight, I grabbed a random dress my size and hurtled towards the changing rooms in the back. Peeling off the chest binding and Thom's old clothes were a blessing...did you know that after two years his clothes still smelled? Gross. The sundress only reached the part above my knees and I felt sort of strange wearing it after being in boy's clothes all day. Still, I walked out of the store five minutes later with it on. Hey, no one said I couldn't be a girl after the who shopping thing was done. And to think we spent all that time just getting ten outfits. Maude is one picky shopper.

Outside, the said lady was still talking with her friend, too busy to notice the change in me. I leaned against the railing and looked down onto the first floor, browsing for the few cute boys that caught my interest

"Trebond!" Someone called from behind me. I tilted my head in the direction behind me and quickly jerked it back. She came up behind me and tapped me gently on the back. "Trebond, are you ignoring me on purpose?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." We lapsed into silence as she stepped up beside me and followed my gaze down below at a group of young men walking across the food court. "My cousin," she pointed. At my puzzled expression, she tried to describe him. "The one with the large-ish nose."

I shook my head. "They're gone."

She gave me a smile from the side of her mouth. "I suppose. Anyway, when'd you get the haircut?" She lifted a lock up quizzically. "You look so much like that snob brother of yours that it's not funny."

"Never said it was," I replied wryly. "What are you doing here anyway, Rispah?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, my cousin. I saw Maude and was curious about why you were here with her."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes, as much as it was strange that a twenty-two year old Thom, who later turned into you, was shopping with its old governess. And telling me it was a boggart won't work this time."

I winced. "Uh...I learned to change genders in the Yamani's?"

She snorted. "That hurt, Alanna. A lot. And I really don't want to be seen with a sex-changing...thing. Friend or not for fifteen years. Plus, I happen to know that you went to Carthak, no where near the Yamani's. So, really now: what are you up to?"

"Truthfully?" Her look told me the answer. "I'm switching places with Thom again."

Nodding her head in understanding, she arched her back and stared up at the ceiling. "I suspected as much, but I didn't think you'd actually cut your hair like his just to do that." I had know Rispah since I'd first met her in the park. Coincidentally, I was pretending to be Thom at the time, while he was off trying to find out what Jinni (his current crush at eight years of age) thought of him while he paraded around as me. Which left me alone to make all kinds of mischief as him. And it was when I was about to play a trick on an elderly woman—could you blame me? She reminded me way too much of Maude, whom I really wasn't getting along with real well at the time. Rispah stopped me just in time before I could dig myself in trouble, the said old lady being the mother of a influential political figure. Friendship just seemed to click at the time, for all the fact that she was a few years older than me and that I was masquerading as my twin brother.

When she found out of course, she had laughed. To her, it was an extremely fun game, and goaded us into switching every chance possible, especially when it meant trouble. She somehow always managed to pull us out of it last minute, though. After Thom evolved into a full-fledged genius, though, he'd voiced his annoyance for my friend. By then we couldn't really change places anymore, either, as my new parts were coming in. So finding out that we—or rather, I—was at it again was no big surprise to her.

Of course, she was already thinking about the most obvious problem. "So, Alanna. How did you get Maude into this one? I'm guessing that she was the one who helped you with your chest problem while impersonating Thom?" She paused to envision something and snickered. "And is Thom around somewhere cruising in a skirt, too, or did he also change back?"

"Actually, Thom doesn't know."

She raised her eyebrow at me. Both of them. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I finally get to do what I want and that I'll get in a huge pile of trouble if anyone finds out, so you better shut up about it, Rispah." I shot her a meaningful glare. The girl was known to sell the juiciest secrets for cash.

She made a face back at me. "Sheesh, who would've thought you'd've stopped trusting me after just a year with your psycho dad. No offense, but I don't know how you've managed to keep sane after being stranded in the Carthaki Desert the year you were finally freed from that jail place you all call 'university'. I would have dived over the cliff with your old man if that was me."

"My dad is dead," I replied flatly.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't realize..."

I shrugged. "It's fine." Laughing softly (and somewhat nervously) I backed away a few steps. "I mean, after having one parent kill herself after going insane, it's not half bad when witnessing the other dying the same way, you know." I gave a small, forced giggle.

Rispah stared back at me. "No, Alanna, it's not half as bad. It's worse. By the Crooked God, I really don't get how're you still functioning with your parents dying like that. I mean, girl, you're twenty-two!" She shook her head and patted my arm softly. "What you need is some nice, hot, coffee. Come on, we'll catch up over a nice cup of cappuccino at Starbucks."

It would be like old times again. "But you hate cappuccinos," I informed her, adamant about banishing all thought about family. It was what happened when you met up with old friends. But a cup of coffee did sound nice...

She chuckled. "I know, but you love 'em. And knowing you, you'd probably drink my share anyway, even if it wasn't that."

"When'd you become so sweet, Rispah?"

She looked at me like I was crazy. "Did you hear the words 'paying' and 'me' in a sentence? Your hearing must be off. No, sister, you're getting the bill." Of course. Why would I expect any different?

We had an hour of chatting before Maude stormed in and dragged me off. During the duration of it, she told me about her current devious advances in the art of shoplifting and a bit about a newfound cousin who had taught her what she knew. ("I also do a bit of flattering for money, if you catch my drift.") In exchange, I told the outline of what had happened after the return. Rispah was pretty skeptical about the whole idea ("Why do you want to get into your grandfather's good 'graces' anyway? From what I've heard, he's an old money-obsessed fart with too much power and green stuff for his own good."

"You must have heard that from Thom, huh?"

"....So what if I did?")

-

"We have Thom's papers, the boarding arrangements are made, the confirmation papers are here—you did go to that interview, right?—everything else should be in order...Alanna, I'm starting to think this wasn't such a good idea."

"Oh, no. I've spent a two weeks rushing about as Thom already, and there is no way I'm not going through with the plan," I told Maude in the most commanding tone I possessed.

She sighed and sat down. "I know, but I just have a bad feeling about this."

I giggled. "The last time you said you had a bad vibe about something, I managed to get that scholarship. Who's not to say that you're bad feelings are the opposite of that?"

"Do not use that ridiculous lingo on me. Really, 'vibe'?" A stern look quieted me. "And who are you to talk to your old governess that way?"

"Thom."

She glared at me, fully knowing it really was how Thom treated anybody and everybody. "Stop being a pert and hurry up. You're going to be late for your first day of work!"

As Thom, of course. I nodded, suddenly feeling somewhat faint. I doubled checked everything, making my cropped hair wasn't as neat as I usually kept it and that my chest binding were in place underneath the new—and rather uncomfortable—Armani suit picked by my favorite nitpicking governess. Shoes on feet, one foot forward, the other steps in front of that...Yup, everything was ready. Nevertheless, I swallowed hard as Maude ushered me out of her apartment. I felt as if I had just been abandoned, like that puppy I'd seen in that weird documentary last night on channel nine. And let me tell you, that puppy didn't live a really long, or good life. Don't know why they did a documentary on a dead dog anyway.

So if you saw a weird looking boy with violet eyes and red hair limping to her old governess's equally old car at six in the morning, that would be me. The limp was from a particularly clumsy moment entering car the first time, if you wanted to know. But then again, you probably didn't. You also most likely know already that going to work—or anywhere—at six before the sun's fully up is no cup of joy, either. But there I was, yawning bigger than my mouth could hold, trying to drive a beat up car halfway across the city as a man and trying my hardest not to fall asleep. It didn't help with the fact that I didn't get my morning coffee today.

It was no wonder that I soon got lost, meandering into the shadier parts of town. In other words, the slums. Surprisingly, I've never been there before. You can blame Maude and Coram for that, of course. Actually, that's a lie. You can blame the governess and the nanny for _trying_ to keep me from going there (note the emphasis on 'trying'), but I've actually visited this part of town before. Once. When I was nine. The week after I'd first met Rispah, to be exact. But that didn't help me with my situation. No, I was thoroughly and completely lost.

The hovering buildings cast strange shadows on the street at this time of dawn, and the lack of streetlights just bolstered the effect. Twisting roadways marked with a large array of potholes made the ride particularly uncomfortable, what with being paired with the nasty old car I currently drove. The first thing I'm going to get from grandfather as Thom is a new car, I swear.

There was only good thing (or maybe the bad thing), which was because the streets were empty of other most other cars. On the other hand, it was nearly crammed with bizarre looking pedestrians. Pink-haired women girls about with bald, pierced, or tattooed punks. Raggedy men and women tottered after the dirt-caked children. Who knew Tortall, the great and mighty empire, still had environments like these? I admit it, I've lived a sheltered life—for the daughter of suicidal parents, I mean.

The amount of people grew at an alarming rate, pretty soon I saw why most cars didn't travel on these narrow roads. But I didn't want to get out. Truth to tell, those people out there scared me, Rispah's could-be friends of not. It wasn't until Maude's car (older than me, I think) decided to have a little breakdown that I was forced to get out. Wasn't life grand and oh so appreciative of me? Even the cars I drove had mental problems, now. Physiatrist's education I may have, but shrink I was not.

I had locked the car and gone a few steps (and received a couple of scalding looks) when I realized that I forgot to bring my purse with me. But by the time I realized that as a 'man' I shouldn't have a purse in the first place, I had already fetched it and was halfway out the car door. With led me to transferring most of the contents contained in there to my pockets. Smart girl that I was, I did everything with the car door open and in full sight of any wandering pickpockets. Just in case you didn't know, the area was brimming with them.

Locking the door again, I headed off in a random direction. I think I might have forgotten that I, once again, was still lost. A hand slipped in my back pocket, and I jerked away, grabbing the first person I touched. Amazingly, it was the pickpocket. Sheer luck, that's for sure. But then again, the culprit couldn't be more than six years of age. I stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Just so you know, I don't carry much cash around, little boy," I informed him. I don't think that my sugar-sweet tone usually used on babies was very intimidating, though. I've never been around kids much, if it didn't show through already. My grip wasn't all that gentle, luckily, seeing as I'd grown up with Thom and Rispah.

He glared at me. "'Course ya do. We all saws it when you puted it in you's pockets." No doubt that the world had seen me. But then his face broke out in a grin. "You shouldn't've grabs me like dat. 'eorge's here ta set you to rights. No suits gots rights to walk 'round here like that, an'ways." He, like anyone around here, spoke with a distinct lower class accent of one without decent education.

I turned to the direction he was looking at, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip the grubby fingers of his free hand into my pockets. Again. I slapped it away again, although not before he managed to swipe a card out. He made a face at the laminated library card. "Dat's all you gots?"

"Yes," I growled, grabbing hold of his other hand, too. He could keep the card; it was mine from sometime ago. I wouldn't need it anymore now that I got Thom's. "Now shut up before I hand you over to the police."

He let out a small snort. "Don't believes ya." Twisting around in my grip, he craned his neck to see behind me. "'eorge! This 'ere suits gottsed ahold 'o me!"

And moved to see what he was looking at again. A young man, a few years older than me, with brown hair and laughing hazel approached me. I couldn't help but notice the pretty eyes. And the somewhat large nose. Dressed in casual business attire, he didn't seem to fit the surroundings at all—a bit like me. He was familiar in a passing feeling sort of way. Now, if he did some work on the nose, he might have been cute enough to go out with. But then again, I'm currently a guy and plastic surgery (anywhere where it shows, at least) is a big turnoff for me. Note the part where I said I was currently a guy especially. For his looks, he'd probably earn an eight or something on Rispah's chart. More if it wasn't for the nose, again.

"Excuse me, sir, for all the trouble this rascal might have given you." He had a lopsided grin on his face, it was anything but sincere. "If you don't mind, I'll take care of him from now on."

"He's yours?"

"Mine? Why Mithros, no." A frown was forming, tugging at his upturned lips. "But you could say he's like a younger brother to me." He ruffled the boys head, regardless of muffled protests. "Anyway, I couldn't help notice that you were lost. Need any help?"

"How can you tell?" I asked dumbly, knowing fully how out of place I looked in this ruffian environment. While this man's outfit certainly resembled mine as much, he gave off the air of fitting in perfectly.

He looked me up and down. "Well, there's your outfit, and your manner, and—of course—your money. You don't reek of it, but you seem to know it pretty well." He winked. "Your hair and eyes certainly fit in, though. Dyed?"

I got that a lot. "No," I replied without hesitation. But the question couldn't help but remind me of my new job, which I was late for, by the way. "But could you direct me to the nearest cab station?"

He nodded, pushing the street rat off. "Just head straight on along this street until you hit the run-down diner. Take a right there, then an immediate left. After that it should be easy to find."

"Thanks," I said hurriedly. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. A large amount of people seemed to be staring at us. At a loss of anymore words, I told him the first things that I though of. "Um...see you around." But what were the odds that I would ever see him again. He nodded again and I left in a quick walk.

It turned out that the man's directions were actually reliable, contrary to my first beliefs. I took a taxi the rest of the way, arriving only a half an hour late. All the same, I ran up the steps into the large chrome building. From outside it had been an unfamiliar marvel, even though it had been in the family for generations. Reflective black panes covered all sides of the building, soaking up and using the energy gathered from the sunlight. With how much electricity I had found out these people used, it didn't seem sufficient even then. There were no sign or lettering anywhere on the building. It was strange, really, since even I didn't know the name of the firm. I wondered if there even was a name.

What I did know about it, was that Grandfather ruled at the head of a influential corporation, political and otherwise. An agency that specialized in global protection, the place produced an odd assortment of bodyguards and psychologists whose expertise was in studying the criminal mind. Some of them _were_ criminals, if I had been told correctly. But protection wasn't the right word for it. Mercenary hit closer to the point, as it hired out guns and did a few government jobs they needed help with. It started from the beginning of the history books, where there were still knights and dragons and all that (maybe not dragons, though). After Tortall began it's Second Conquest, the lands had doubled—maybe even tripled. Countries like Tusiane and Scanra got sucked in to ours. And that's when, following Carthak's footsteps, we became an empire.

The knights and their chivalry, however, continued to enforce the laws, like police. But pretty soon, they pretty much turned into policemen. Well, some ancestor of mine decided that petty police enforcement was below him, and—according to Coram, at least—being a successful lawyer and businessman, dropped the title of his nobility and started the place. He had his own Code of Chivalry enacted, I think, but the mercenary work gradually moved away from all that and whatever loyalties there were at the beginning. But grandfather had brought it back, pressing the Code over the place again, and working with Tortall's government more as an ally. A very well-paid ally, but an ally nevertheless.

Being a prestigious figure didn't help his personal life much, since his wife died from childbirth. His sole child was a girl—in other words, my mother. He was so bitterly disappointed, since he, like many others today, still consider women as those unworthy to inherit anything other than estate or small possessions. Seriously. Here we are, a millennium and a quarter after the last of the knights-riding-on-horses-saving-damsels-in-distress deal. What was up with the damsels in distress? From what I saw and heard from the 'interview' (I was technically a part of the company with it or not), grandpa hired plenty of women. So why wouldn't he accept me to have anything to do with him? As myself, I men, not Thom.

But speaking of that, I would probably have to start practicing feigning his voice, since while what I said to the man back there was lower than usual, it had a distinctly feminine undertone to it. I decided to practice on the security guard at the door, who had stopped me for validation.

"Validation?" It came out a bit better than a squeak.

He nodded. "To permit you entrance to the building. Otherwise, I'd have to take you into custody and report you to upper security. Now, the card, please." 

Oh yes, that card. I dug into my pockets for it, but only found a couple of credit cards and my old library one. I bit my lip. I knew that I had it earlier this morning, so...I froze. That little pickpocket had stolen my card!

The guard tapped my shoulder. "Sir?" he prompted.

"The card, yes. In a bit." Maybe I had just misplaced it between my pockets. But no, it wasn't anywhere. "I'm not sure, but I think I—"

I was interrupted when a young man with messy brown hair approached, smile on his face. He waved at the guard, "Hey Upton, what are you doing here?"

The guard suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable, but still managed to hold on to his stiff stance. "Sir. The normal guard had his day off and his Grace forgot to get a substitute, so he pulled me here. Now if you'll excuse me, I have this man to attend to." He shot his glance over to me.

The other man chucked. "Don't be so stuffy, man. Now, who have we got here?" He seemed to notice me for the first time. Like just about everybody, he towered over me. His eyes, I noticed quickly, were the exact same shade of brown as his hair, an off-hue chestnut. His suit, like his hair, wasn't the neatest. The tie was crooked and loose. "You new?"

I jerked my gaze off him and nodded, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed. Then I remembered again that I was supposed to be a guy. "Ala-Thom Trebond." I extended my hand to shake. I also hoped he didn't notice my small slip up. "I seemed to have, um, misplaced my identification card."

He returned the handshake and nodded, cracking a smile. "I did that too on my first day. I'm Gareth of Naxen—but call me Gary." So he was nobility. Then he paused. "Trebond? Really? You must be who they've all been talking about—so the grandson of the bossman finally cracked and decided to join us. He's been at it for ages, you now."

"Of course. The phone calls certainly annoyed me enough to make me crazy, like I am to come here." I imagined what Thom might have really said in this situation. Close enough, I guess.

"Oh, you'll like it here once you get used to it. You could say this place is a living hell, what with it's 'Code' and everything else, but it's decent enough as these things go. The downside is when your own father works here, too, way above you," he muttered under his breath. "Come on, let's go in before Upton bursts a vein." I looked at the guard as we passed him; the vein on his forehead was indeed popping out. "Get some stress relieving pills, you need it." I looked over to him as he walked up to the receptionists desk and couldn't help think what Rispah would give him on her cut ratings. It was something we did a couple of years back, you see. He's maybe an eight or nine...what was with me and meeting guys as one today? All of them seem to come out the minute I switch genders.

"—Trebond, you know." I caught the last bit of his sentence as he talked to the secretary behind the desk. I tried to refocus my attentions.

The receptionist nodded. "Yes, I understand that." She turned to me with a smile that reminded me strangely of the nurse I had woken to in the hospital. "Mister Greensward specifically requested that you'd be sent up to him first." She got up to escort me, but Gary waved her back down.

"I'm going up anyway, I can take him." Him. It was strange to be referred to as a _him_. "Come on," he directed to an alcove on the side of the large entrance hall, sporting an array of elevators. "Normally we'd take the escalators from floor to floor, but the bossman likes his office up top."

"Really?" I was curious. "But I always thought that he disliked heights."

"Oh, he does. But whenever he needs to be alone with some important business contract or another, and doesn't want to be bothered, he just turns off the elevators. No one wants to make the trek up there by stairs, emergency or not."

"He doesn't mind that face that he might be stranded that way in case of a _real_ emergency, like a fire or something?"

He lifted his shoulders. "He has a private helicopter on the roof and a few other tricks to can resort to be exit the building without touching it." A small _ding_ alerted us of the arrival of an elevator. The door slid open and a stocky woman stepped out in jeans and a smudged t-shirt. I was slightly surprised. She waved at Gary before rushing away.

"Buri," was was only explanation. We stepped inside the now vacant room, and once again I marveled. A grandfather this rich and us living the pits? Okay, maybe not that badly, but it considerably paled in comparison to all of what I had seen so far. Gary had chosen the elevator on the furthest end, meaning it bordered the wall. That side was a large window, giving us a full view of the city outside. The other walls were completely encased in mirrors. The door closed and began its ascent. It smelled of leather and new things. We stood in silence for a bit, listening to the soft music emitting from a camouflaged speaker.

"So, I hear that you have a twin sister."

"Yes."

"Yeah, Jon was talking about her the other day."

Strange, I knew I'd never talked to anyone here by the name of Jon before this. "Really now?"

He nodded. "On the phone, once. Greensward's secretary had gone out for her break and I was helping Jon dig up papers. Offered her a job, I think, and she accepted. I was actually expecting a woman to show up today. After all, we'd always been told that you had refused every offer of a job from him."

I had to turn my giggle into a forced chuckle. Men did not giggle, and I had to start acting more like them. They are a strange race, you know. But really, he had expected _me_ as _me_ to come? Grandpa must have been pretty busy if he mixed us up. After all, Alanna is distinctly a girl's name. "No, my sister decided that it was time I did something stable. I was planning on going to Carthak, you see."

"Why go there?"

What had Thom said about that again? "Uh, the University there has a longer history of establishment. Better in the engineering field and all that crap." Did he notice that I'd contradicted myself?

"You interested in engineering?" He asked, somewhat deflated. I guessed that he didn't like the subject much. I didn't, either. Wonder how Thom stood the hours of geometry needed for that. _Oh yes_, I remembered, _he's a genius_.

No, I hated building and designing stuff. "Yes."

"We have a few people who do some of that, if you want to talk with them. If I remember correctly, Alex is swaying that way, I'll introduce you guys sometime." I nodded. "Anyway, you've been here before, right?"

I had? Oh yeah, I had. Or at least my twin had been CEO for grandpa for a few short days before leaving. Damn, I was going to have to face one of grandpa's lecture. "Yeah, I guess. Didn't take to it right away."

"So that time outside the door hadn't been your first time? You must know your way around here already."

"Actually, no." I tried to remember everything Thom had told me in scorn of grandpa. "I agreed to take the job, unofficially, but never entered the place." That should be about right.

"Really? So how did you run the place?"

"Oh, I didn't," I lied, filling in the empty places with falsehoods. "I was looking at a course in engineering right about then."

"What changed?"

"Well, my sister took the job for me. Didn't have much of a choice after that. She's a bit scary sometimes, you know." Do you how strange it is to talk about yourself like that? It's plain freaky.

"No, I don't. But I would like to," he responded with a sly grin.

"I'll introduce you sometime, then." Yeah right I was. We arrived on our floor right then. Unfortunately for me, the mirror wall I was leaning on was sliding open and I almost tripped. Whose good idea was it to design these stupid things? Steadying myself, I pushed my hair out of my face and followed determinedly after Gary. I had forgotten how grandfather made me cry every time I saw him. Makes you wonder if I was brainwashed to idolize him so. But that was me: insane and proud.

Soft carpeting appeared below our feet as we made our way through a large reception room. A set of sliding doors appeared in front of us, but they didn't slide open until Gary punched in a code. "I'm really not supposed to know it," he explained to me. "But it helps if you're a good listener."

"You eavesdrop," I accused. He just laughed and ushered me in.

Whatever it was, it wasn't what I was expecting. The room was much more modest than what I expected any of grandpa's residents to be. For one thing, there was only one desk and a chair, it's occupant turned away from us. The balding man was muttering over a newspaper. More accurately, the daily crossword puzzle.

"Eh, Gary," he called out without bothering to turn around. "What's the difference between a gelding and a stallion? This one's got me stumped." Was this my grandfather? Doing a crossword?

The young man scratched his head. "Balls," he answered. I had to stop myself from coughing.

"What? Oh, okay. Good one. Now help me with—" A sharp rapping on the sliding door from behind interrupted him. He swiveled around, crossword discarded and the familiar callous expression drawn on his face. "What is it?" He barked, not even noticing me. The rapping continued. He rolled his eyes and pressed a button the the side of the desk. The door opened and a red-faced secretary rushed in.

"I'm truly sorry, Sir, but there seems to be a problem with the new prototype," she told him, staring at the floor. Her nail-on-chalkboard voice was oh-so-familiar.

"What's wrong with it?" His tone had gone dangerously cold. Yup, this was the loving grandfather I remembered. "Bring it here!"

The woman nodded quickly and scurried away as quickly as her dress suit and heels could allow. She returned minutes later with a strange gun and laid it on the table. It was gossamer black and brand new. The side was opened so that one could see the confusing array of circuits. "They don't know what's wrong, Sir. After it fell off your desk the other day, it stopped functioning. The men in the labs don't get what's wrong."

Gary moved closer to examine it with grandpa. They both stared and fiddled with it for sometime while I watched nervously from my spot, rooted near the door. After a while, the secretary also moved closer. Out of my own curiosity, I followed suit. "Everything should be perfectly fine," grandpa muttered. "There should be nothing wrong with it." His hand strayed to the control board at the corner of his desk again, and he he pressed switched a small tab. A screen lowered down, a target drawn on the middle. After closing the open hatched, he lifted the gun up and aimed. Was he crazy? Shooting it right here! He pressed down, and we heard a click, but nothing happened.

"Um, excuse me, Sir?" the woman tried to get regain his attention. "Sir?"

"What is it now?" He glared at her.

She flustered motioned at the gun. "I couldn't help but notice, Sir, something seems to be covering the hole." I saw it, too. A thin, translucent cover was over end of it.

"What kind of nonsense are you sprouting, woman? Get out of here!" She nodded and scurried off again. Gary met his employer's eye and shrugged. I rolled my eyes. How far can male stupidity go?

I finally decided to speak up. "She's right, you know." They both looked up at me, as if just remembering that I was there. I cleared my throat, making sure my voice didn't sound like myself. "You have a strange clip capping the gun, right over there." I leaned forward and pulled the thing off.

They stared at the that, and then the gun "And here we were, checking the inside, when there was something blocking the bullet!" Gary exclaimed cheerfully. "They must have forgotten to take it off when it was delivered."

My grandfather nodded, then returned to staring at me. "Thom?"

"Hi grandpa." Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

** ◊ **

That, my friends, was one of the longest things I've ever written in my life (I think), second only to that one chapter in Hunter. The second introductory chapter has been finished, so the next ones should be focusing on pushing the plot...

_For the next chapter, I have some fun things planned, like the appearance of the rest of the cast and some other stuff for Chapter Three : A Little Princess. A niece, some cousins, and some research (on my part). _


End file.
